


Wounded

by Alku04



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Assuming Thranduil, Dry Humor, Gen, Parent Thranduil, Tired Legolas, awkward dinner, bad attempt at a joke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 03:57:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17891054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alku04/pseuds/Alku04
Summary: There is something wrong with Legolas and Thranduil thinks he knows why.





	Wounded

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little scene between Thranduil and Legolas. Nothing spectacular or particularly eventful, but I have been wanting to write for a while now, but lost my groove well over a year ago :(
> 
> This is actually a LOOOOOONG overdue birthday present to Eirinte. Sorry my writing block prevented me from posting this back in November, but figured it was better to post it late rather than never XD!
> 
> Just for an age reference, this is set before The Hobbit, but not by much so Legolas would be the same age as we see him in the movies.
> 
> I am debating adding chapters to this, but right now my ideas are kind of dull. If I do add chapters and turn this into a mini story, I will update the tags, summary and/or rating depending on what comes of it :)
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

 

Thranduil watched his son with concern.

Mirkwood's dining halls were full tonight as the meal included the usual gathering of council members and advisors that lived within the palace's strong walls. There was a merry chatter buzzing through the massive room, but his son seemed to be a bit removed from the gathering this evening. His usual proud posture was not as profound and the prince's eyes rarely left his plate. Sluggishly, he pushed some vegetables around with his fork, not showing any particular interest with the meal before he finally picked out a few items to plop in his mouth, which he chewed slowly.

Someone sitting next Legolas made a comment causing the prince to finally lift his head. He smiled somewhat dryly, quietly speaking of his own thoughts to the conversation around him, but his response was brief and soon the king's son turned back to his plate, reverting back into the lull that he had been in nearly all evening.

Legolas was rarely like this. The king regarded him as Legolas took a drawn out breath, sighing as if to clear his head and Thranduil noted a particular crease in the prince's brow, a sign of unease within the younger elf.

Something was wrong with his son, but what, Thranduil could not tell. He knew border control efforts had ramped up in the recent weeks and Legolas, a caption within the ranks and proud warrior in his own right, was spearheading most of the issues. But from what Thranduil understood, his son had a handle on things; He organized platoons to monitor and protect their boundaries from the invading orcs and spiders that were trying to advance upon the Woodland Realm. The prince diligently followed up any activity with precise reports which he presented before the realm's various councils and worked tirelessly with others to strategize their next move. Though the prince was not on the fighting front this time, he did occasionally take day trips to the borders to witness firsthand what was taking place and to make sure the accounts given to him were correct. Today he set off before the sun fully rose to make a run to a less frequented troop and only returned a few hours before dinner started. From his report upon his return, their efforts were paying off and it felt as though the activity was calming, a good sign that things were going to let up soon and their borders could be called secure once more.

But the strong, authoritative prince that was seen in the throne room only hours before was not present now and the king's worry grew as he watched the way Legolas really only poked at his food with a semi-awareness.

As if he felt eyes on him, Legolas cast his sights about the table trying to pinpoint the reason for his sudden self-consciousness, surprised to find the icy blue eyes of his father boring into him. Thranduil's firm gaze was hard to read, but it was far from happy and the prince went still.

There, Thranduil noted with ease the glassy eyes of his son and a flush of pink that set into his ivory cheeks. The king's worry peaked and his eyes narrowed with criticism.

His son was injured and Legolas was trying to hide it.

Thranduil pressed his lips into a thin line of disapproval, but no one really saw. Legolas looked off quickly and went back to feigning interest with his plate while the rest of the company remained in their own conversations. The king looked over his son with a scrutinizing eye, trying to see for himself what ailed the younger elf, but he could see no outward appearance of injury and his mind could only wonder over possibilities and worrisome 'what-ifs'.

With a sigh to calm his running concern, the king resolved himself to dig into the matter once the dinner hour ended. It would suit no one to bring it up now within the grand company before them and so Thranduil waited impatiently while trying to act as though everything was normal.

The meal time only lasted as long as it was needed and when the empty dishes sitting before each person started to be cleared away, so did the crowd. A group of captains who had been working closely with Legolas over the past few days stood to take their leave and the prince began to follow suit. However, a low statement quickly checked his retreat.

"Legolas... A word, please." Thranduil easily requested by way of a demand, cutting off any possibility of resistance with his unbending tone. He lifted his wine glass to his lips, knowing his order would be followed through.

The prince paused, his weary features turning serious and perhaps a tad annoyed, but he did as he was told and quietly sat back into his chair watching as the last of the patrons filed out of the dining hall at their own leisurely pace. The grand heavy doors closed after the last person made their exit, leaving the two royals in the hall with a few servants who continued cleaning up the dinner mess.

"You wanted to see me, my lord?" Legolas asked wearily, but just as he had done earlier, he refused to look at his father. He hoped this would be quick.

"You are hurt." was all Thranduil said and his disappointment caused Legolas to finally turn to him, although confused.

"Hurt?"

Thranduil arched a single thick brow as he sat back in his chair, daring his son to say otherwise. The king knew what he observed and knew his son's penchant for making light of his injuries no matter how big they were. They had been down this road plenty of times before.

The prince shook his head. "Nay _Ada_. I am well. Only tired."

"Legolas..." the king said his son's name as a warning to snuff out any argument to get to the bottom of the issue quickly.

The prince's jaw dropped marginally as his words were not heeded and was demanded yet again to supply information. However, the prince gathered himself quickly. He could already tell it was going to be one of those nights… Thranduil would only believe what he wanted and convincing him otherwise was going to be difficult without a debate, which Legolas did not want to get into.

With a sigh, the prince caved and presented the facts that Thranduil sought. It was eerie the way the king could simply sense the truth at times.

"I am sorry, Father…" Legolas dropped his head. "I did not mean retain any information from you. I just did not want you to worry." the prince said looking into his lap as he spoke.

The king could have been upset after having to drag information out of his son this way, but instead, Thranduil sat up, regarding his precious child with a new wave of dread. The prince took a moment to collect his thoughts well enough to relay them to his father.

"This afternoon…. a rather disastrous incident occurred." The prince began to study his hand as he spoke, finding a calming influence in the distraction as he continued. "I hastily grabbed a parchment to fill out my reports for today's council... and in doing so I received a rather grievous parchment cut."

The prince clenched his jaw to hide the smile that wanted to seep through as he held his palm up, showing Thranduil the faintest scratch that ran down a single finger in a thin red line. He allowed his father to glance at it before the prince pulled it away, continuing with his story while using every ounce of his control to keep the laughter out of his voice.

"It is serious father, for it is rather deep… Perhaps I should have headed off to the healing ward to receive stitches, but foolishly I decided not to. I thought I could manage by simply washing it with a mild soap, but-"

"Legolas!" Thranduil barked, cutting the prince off who could no longer retain his smirk. "I do not need you smart remarks. I am serious. Do not try me!"

Legolas worked hard to quell his laughter. "Sorry _Ada_ , I do not know what you want from me. As I told you, I am fine."

"You are not hurt?" Thranduil nearly mocked for he still did not believe his son. However, if the prince found the strength to jest, perhaps he really was unhurt as he claimed.

"Nay _Ada_ , only tired. I it has been a long few weeks I am afraid..." The prince said, but stopped as he fought the urge to yawn in front of his father. It broke free anyway and the prince gasped for air, demonstrating the honesty in his earlier reply. The prince pushed his fingers into his eyes to rub the watery ache away that accompanied his gasp. When the prince's hand dropped to his lap, Thranduil could easily see the cause of the glossiness he noted earlier. His son really was tired.

No…. he was exhausted.

Thranduil sat back in is chair again and grabbed his wine glass for a sip of what remained in the cup. "Perhaps you should take some rest tomorrow." Thranduil said, but his offer was somewhat reserved as his anger from mere seconds ago continued to drain.

Legolas waved his hand in dismissal. "I cannot. I have far too much to do and I must get an early start. I told Tauriel I would see to your guards and go over the new training protocols we are trying to enforce. They also need updated armor and that is fist on my agenda."

"And why isn't Tauriel doing that? Is it not her responsibility?"

Legolas cocked his head, perplexed. "Do you not remember?" Legolas asked softly, his visage became strained watching his father who failed to recall, perhaps, the most notable news he had delivered in days.

The king tipped his wine glass once again to drain its contents before motioning for a refill to a passing servant.

"I suppose not."

Legolas pursed his lips. "She lead a band of warriors to the southernmost borders to drive the spiders back. She was bitten."

A wash over came Thranduil's features. "Oh, yes, that is right. I do recall." The high elf said as he nodded to the staff member who finished filling the goblet of the king's preferred drink. Thranduil took a lazy sip. "Sometimes I doubt my decision to promote her as captain… your words had a profound influence on me at the time."

Legolas' eyes became mere slits, disappointed that his father seemed to care so little about Tauriel.

"Her commitment and dedication combined with her abilities were proven to you and and you alone made the choice, not I." Legolas' words were tart as he defended the captain in question.

Thranduil ignored him.

"I thought Tauriel was overtaken by spiders days ago. Shouldn't she be well?"

"She still needs rest."

"As do you." Thranduil said and raised a brow, sending off the smallest smirk that spoke volumes.

" _Ada_ …." the younger elf reproached with a miffed sigh. "I will find time to rest once the borders are secure… right now I have far too much to do and I would rather be off right now finishing up my work before I have to wake all too soon." The younger elf stood as if to leave, but glanced back at his father, making sure his king would allow the dismissal.

Thranduil only nodded and watched his son made for the exit.

"Good night, Legolas."

The prince's steps faltered slightly as he wearily made for the door, the toe of his boots scrapped across the stone floor nearly causing him to trip. He did not look back and left the dining hall without a word.

Thranduil's eyes tracked the prince's retreat, his heart sank when his own son deliberately chose not to speak further to him. With a sigh, the king passed a hand over his face to chase away the mounting tension that found its way into his features after his concern over his son's health only turned into a bitter discussion. That was not at all the way he wanted to close this night out and a pain of guilt shot through him. These terse run-ins with his son were becoming far too frequent as of late and it unsettled his heart.

The king brought his glass to his lips again, but his mind was not engaged in to the motion. Rather he recalled softer times when the prince was quite young, wishing he could go back to having easy conversations with his child while watching the stars wake up as he told Legolas stories of lore that stole the inquisitive young mind or watching as his son's face lit up with proud joy after successfully hitting targets as he learned to use a bow, eager to share his excitement with his father.

And now he found time had slipped by and Legolas had grown into an adult, but this is what they had between them.

Thranduil did not want to dwell on it. Quietly, the king stood to his feet and left the dining rooms himself. Perhaps tomorrow could be a better day.

The king hoped so.


End file.
